


Untrained and Unrestrained

by NotRyanRoss



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy, Gerard Way and the Hormones, Music RPF, My Chemical Romance, frnkiero andthe cellabration
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Blood Drinking, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Temporary Amnesia, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-22
Updated: 2016-01-14
Packaged: 2018-05-08 10:04:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5493236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotRyanRoss/pseuds/NotRyanRoss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A few seconds before he died, Frank Iero kissed Gerard Way. And the aftermath broke Mikey Way's heart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Frank hadn't seen it coming.

He'd been out back of a show, sweaty and disgusting from thrashing around onstage. His shirt was lost somewhere between the dressing room and outside, and he took a smoke out and lit it in just his jeans. The others had stayed back for some signing, but he felt like he was about to crawl out of his skin with energy. Shows always made him feel like this, wired and energetic and _alive,_ and he fucking loved it.

He hadn't seen it coming.

There was a figure, standing in the shadows. They were thin, and small, so Frank naturally assumed it was a fan and puffed out a stream of smoke, taking a step towards them. It was odd they weren't talking, sure, but some people got nervous when meeting him. It was a normal reaction, he guessed.

He hadn't seen it coming.

"Hey," he called. "You okay? You know you're not allowed back here, right?" They didn't answer, and that was when Frank got close enough to see a pale face under a hood, the telltale shine of a knife in her clenched hand.

He hadn't seen it coming.

He didn't even realise it had happened, just a sharp, hot sensation in his chest and when he looked down the knife handle was emerging from his bare chest. At first, he thought it was a joke, thought it was something Bob had cooked up, or maybe Bert, the son of a bitch, but then his body dropped to the concrete without his permission and he fell.

He hadn't seen it coming.

The footfalls of the girl sped away, and Frank was left to die. _Is this really it,_ he thought cloudily. He rolled over with some difficulty, feeling the knife shift in his ribcage. It hurt, but in a muted sort of way. With a breath that felt like it didn't take in any oxygen, he stared at the light coming from the door. His band was past that door.

Gerard and, and Mikey were past that door.

He sucked in another breath and tried to remember what the last thing he'd said to him was. It was probably during the show, with their sweat mingling as he rubbed his body against Gerard as he sung. God, he wished he'd done more, wished he'd snuck in one last kiss, even if it was slimy and tasted like sweat, it was fucking worth it. He wished he'd pressed his face against Mikey's, melded them together with sweat until it was near disgusting but hilarious. He wished he'd, he'd said something to them.

His chest hurt.

He blinked open his eyes and Gerard was there, in all his dark glory, kneeling over him. It was almost like he'd been summoned, and Frank tried to laugh but it sounded more like a hacking noise and that was most definitely blood in his mouth.

"Frank?"

Gerard sounded muted, but he could still hear that confusion, that despair that would soon break into pieces. Warmth hit Frank's cheeks, and he realised Gerard was crying, the most heartbreaking noise he'd ever heard, broken and choppy sobbing. He reached a hand up to try and wipe them away, but his arm only made it so far before it fell to the ground. It felt like his mind was being dragged away, even as Gerard's figure blurred and he heard Mikey's alarmed voice.

"Frank, what the fuck happened?"

He reached out and circled his fingers around Mikey's wrist weakly. "'m sor'y," he managed to get out. He couldn't make out the younger brother's expression, but he could feel the shaking.

"Call an ambulance!" Ray's voice was sharp, off-sounding as his footsteps receeded.

Gerard let out a loud sob and the wetness on Frank's face increased. Frank was almost sure Gee wasn't the only one crying now, even if he couldn't hear anything from Mikey. "He, he's not gonna- _Frankie,"_ he sobbed, pressing his forehead against Frank's. Frank tried to reply, to reassure him, reassure them both, but all that came up was more blood. He couldn't really feel his body anymore, felt like it was drifting away.

In his last moments of life, Frank Anthony Iero Jr lifted his head and pressed his lips to Gerard Arthur Way's and clenched Michael James Way's hand in his own.

And then he died.


	2. Chapter 1

He'd just been so heartbroken.

The love of his life had literally just _died_ in his arms.

"Gee," Mikey said, voice barely above a whisper. Gerard let out another sob wrack his body. Frank just looked so _small_ , limp in his lap with a fucking knife jutting out of his chest. Why the hell had this happened, who the fuck could hate Frank enough to do _this_? He didn't deserve this!

He almost didn't notice the tiny shudder of a breath Frank took in.

"Shit, _Mikey, he's still alive!_ I can- I could- _"_

"Gee-" Mikey's voice gained a guarded tone.

"I can't let him die, Mikes, I can't," he said through a haze of tears as he took a firm grip of the knife and yanked it out. It made a horrible squelching sound, one that made Gerard want to fall to the ground and beg for forgiveness from Frank's body for desecrating it.

"This isn't going to-"

"I _don't care."_ With a quick slice, he slit open his own wrist, wincing at the sting but putting the wound to Frank's parted lips. Blood spilled down his chin, blood that wasn't his, and Gerard begged whatever God was out there that he'd fucking swallow.

"Come on," he hissed at him.

The air felt heavy as a second ticked by.

Then his throat convulsed and Frank coughed wetly, swallowing. The world seemed to freeze for a split second as his back arched against Gerard's legs almost painfully, his spine jutting into Gerard's thigh. His eyes flickered open, and Gerard stared into slitted pupils and gold irises.

Frank coughed again, the sound sending a chill up his spine, before dropping back to his lap.

"Is he-?" Mikey finally spoke from behind him, hesitant.

Gerard didn't answer, wiping some of the drying blood from Frank's lower lip. Frank's tongue flicked out against his thumb unconsciously, and Gerard let out a huge breath.

"He's not breathing, Gee."

"I know."

"He's dead."

"I know."

"I hope you know what you're doing," Mikey said flatly.

"I can't let him go," Gerard said, oddly detached from the situation. "I can't."

Frank let out a tiny sigh against his leg.

###

When he woke up, it felt like his throat had been ripped out.

"Fuck," he rasped. Everything felt unbalanced, like it was all tilting on its head before him. He couldn't register colours, or noises, just the swirling of his mind. And he was hungry, God, it felt like there was something alive in his abdomen, ripping at his organs to try and escape. He let out another pleading, aggravated noise, staring at nothing. He couldn't concentrate long enough to focus his stare on anything, he was too _hungry._

He could feel it in his fucking _teeth._

"Ungh," he said intelligently to himself. His voice didn't sound right, like it was muffled but too loud all at once, clamouring right in his ear. It _hurt._

"... _awake_ ," a voice said, clanging against his ears, and he flicked his head in its direction. He squinted, but could only make out a flicker of red and brown and the smell of something _alive._ He let out another noise, trying to get his body to move. It smelt like _food._

"- _okay? Frankie, can you hear-_ "

There was another figure, darker, but whiter, and he smelt positively _divine._ He shuddered, taking in the scent as it drew closer to him. It felt like he was high off that smell, but he was so _hungry. That_ was what he needed, fuck, he needed it so bad, but he couldn't move even a little bit.

" _-help him?"_

_"I'll do-"_

_"...gotta work, he's-"_

_"Frank's not-"_

_"-but he is!"_

_"...fucking animal right now."_

_"-be fine."_

He barely understood half the things being communicated, didn't know what was going on or who those shapes and smells were, when one drew closer, the good one. He let out a sharp whine, trying to move, he needed it so _bad, please._ The dark-and-white figure drew closer, and he felt something strange on his face before wet warmth was filling up his mouth, sharp and coppery like the edge of a knife, and it was _exactly_ what he needed. He felt his eyes roll back as the copperknifetaste slid down his throat, and he swallowed.

He made a sad, lost noise when the warmth receeded from him, weakly moving his arm towards it. Something soft circled his wrist and he stilled.

" _He's not Frank, Gerard."_

_"But he is! Look, he's fine, he's just recovering!"_

_"Remember what happened last time you pulled this?"_

_"But-"_

_"Humans aren't meant to be resurrected, Gee."_

He wondered vaguely what a 'Frank' was before he succumbed to the darkness.

###

"You know that isn't Frank, Gerard."

Gerard gave Mikey a flat stare for a few seconds before returning his gaze back to the motionless body on the other side of the cage.

That was one thing Gerard had agreed to, although unwillingly. Frank's body was slumped on the other side, arm outstretched in his direction so a few tattooed fingers reached past the bars. Sometimes his chest lifted fractionally with some illusion of breathing despite the fact _he didn't need to anymore he'd never need to breathe again_ , but the worst was when he opened his eyes.

They weren't Frank's eyes. They were the eyes of a predator.

Frank let out a barely audible noise and his fingers twitched. Gerard linked their hands together gently, resting his face against the bars. Frank squeezed back, weakly but still there, and he felt the ghost of a smile on his face. No matter what Mikey said, Frank was different. He had too much life in him to just go without a fight.

"Remember last time you pulled this?"

Gerard ignored him.

"Look, let's just kill him now and-"

Gerard whipped his head around and _snarled_ at Mikey, baring his teeth. Mikey twitched, almost a flinch but not quite as he kept his flat stare on him, little luminous flickers of gold in the irises. Gerard knew his own eyes were probably an unsettling shade of yellow, but hey, anything to keep Frank safe.

"No," he told Mikey, voice cold and almost unrecognizable. Mikey let out a breath, leaning back against a wall.

"This is going to turn out badly, Gee."

###

Mikey wanted to kill them both.

It'd be so _easy._ Frank was still weak and disoriented from the change, and Gerard wasn't much better. It'd take maybe ten minutes, less even, to shove his brother to the ground and ram a knife into his throat before crushing Frank's windpipe through the cage. And that'd be the end of it. He could move on, maybe call up Pete, go hang out with him for a while.

Thing was, Mikey couldn't kill them, as much as he'd like to.

Gerard fell asleep by the cage that evening, and Mikey sat by him, watching the soft little sighs that fell from his mouth, the sporadic clenching of his hand on the corpse masquerading as Frank.

It took a little, shuffling breath into its lungs, sitting up a little, and Mikey froze. Gold eyes gazed around for a few seconds sightlessly, and then it focused on him. They stared at each other for a moment, before it made a whining noise and settled against the cage where it could be close to Gerard.

He growled at it before he could srop himself.

Fra- the _thing_ opened one eye again, looking at him. Mikey lifted his chin, trying to display some kind of dominance, but it didn't seem very affected. The thing just eyed him for a moment, before it reached out with Frank's hand to him, and _was it trying to hold hands?_ Mikey looked from the hand to the corpse, but it didn't seem very interested in him besides holding hands.

Holding hands like it was doing with _Gerard_.

"It's not you," he said to the corpse firmly. It didn't seem to understand.

He left the room.

###

When he scrambled back to consciousness again, he could see perfectly. Like, hypervision kind of perfect. He could see hairs on the other side of the room on the floor, long and fine. He sat up with some difficulty, propping himself up on a wall. It was cold against his back, but the sensation was muted, barely there, so he ignored it.

Strange.

He was kind of hungry.

Something was missing.

Something important.

He slid across the floor, stopping when he made it to the bars halting his entrance to the other part of the room. How was he supposed to pick up those hairs if he was stuck here? Terrible. Also, he stunk, and his chest was itchy. He scratched at it absently, glancing down. A large whitish scar sliced under his heart, and he wondered vaguely where it had come from.

He made a small, sad noise in the back of his throat, sticking a hand through the bars. He couldn't reach the mess, couldn't clean it up. This was unacceptable. He could see fucking _everything, every little speck of dust and it was driving him insane._

He smacked his head against the bars in frustration roughly and let out a groan. And then he headbutted the cage again. Disgraceful. If only he could get out this c-

Oh.

Looked like he could break stuff with his head. Sweet.

He lifted himself onto his knees and up, muscles creaking in protest. Ah, that was the stuff. He stretched lightly, before pushing at the damaged bars hesitantly.

###

Gerard's heart stopped beating when he went down to the basement and Frank wasn't in the cage. The bars were bent, just enough that a Frank-shaped thing could slip through, and his blood ran cold. Mikey was going to _kill him, what if Frank hurt someone ohGodnonothimnotagain-_

A brushing noise from the corner interrupted his inner screaming.

"Oh," he breathed, seeing the top of Frank's messy dark locks from behind the couch. He stepped over so he could see, trying to be as quiet as possible.

He let out an undignified snort that sounded more like a sob than anything when he saw what was happening. Frank had found what looked like a metric ton of dust and lint, and collected it into a pile. He crouched in front of it, picking a hair from the ground and setting it on top of the pile. Frank's eyes flickered to him, and he felt that little trickle of fear at the gold of that curious stare. He looked so different like this, still the same small punk rocker, but _predatory,_ watching him with some unreadable expression before tilting his head up in a familiar acknowledgement that was almost frightening when done in slow motion.

"Frank? Hey, it's me," he said softly, dropping to a crouch as well.

Frank stared at him.

"How are you?"

The stare continued.

"Shit, you probably don't want to talk to me, I'm sor-"

"You talk a lot." Frank's voice was scratchy, like he'd smoked an entire pack of cigarettes at once. When he spoke there was a tiny flash of teeth, sharp and painful-looking. Gerard tried not to shudder.

"Do you know who I am?"

A furrowed brow. "You're...important."

"How?"

"Dunno."

Frank turned back to the pile, sweeping it into a neater pile with one pale hand. Looks like his memory wasn't back yet ( _if at all_ , a part of his brain whispered). "Okay. I'm Gerard, Gerard Way."

"Geh-rard. Gerard. Gee-rard?"

"Gee is fine."

"Gee." Frank gave him a sharp, quick nod.

Gerard smiled at him, so _glad_ that Mikey had been wrong, because Frank wasn't being violent or animalistic at all, he was _fucking cleaning._

Frank let out a sad sort of sigh, closing his eyes for a second.

"Frank? You okay?"

"I'm hungry." He said it matter-of-factly, giving the ball of lint and dust a helpless look.

Gerard frowned. It had been less than twelve hours since he'd last fed, he shouldn't be needing any more until lunchtime at the earliest. But he _had_ died a few days ago, it was probably okay. "C'mere," he coaxed.

Frank gave him a wary stare but shifted closer nonetheless, stopping when his knee touched Gerard's. He sniffed delicately, eyes half-closing as he let out a small, needy noise.

"Yes, yeah, just give me a second." Gerard pulled out a pocket knife from his jacket and sliced across his wrist next to the other two raw-looking cuts. Blood welled up immediately, and the little hitching breath Frank took in was loud in the silence of the basement. His slitted pupils had focused on the blood immediately, and he eyed Gerard for a split second before leaning down and fitting his mouth around the wound. His mouth was cool, tongue flicking around the edges of the wound and bringing flickers of pain along with the soothing brush of his fringe on Gerard's forearm. Gerard tried not to shiver but it didn't help, Frank shifting to glance up at him before running his tongue along the cut and sitting back. A small drop of blood slid down his chin, and Gerard reached to thumb it off.

"Is that enough?"

Frank gave him a slow nod.

Gerard felt himself smile. Maybe this would work out after all. 


	3. Chapter 3

Sufficient to say, Mikey wasn't pleased when he came home and found Frank dusting the bookshelf.

Gerard had been in the kitchen at the time, making coffee. Frank didn't show any interest in food, but his nose scrunched up when he saw the bacon. If his vegan habits were showing up despite him being undead, there was still hope for his memory yet.

He was brought out of his reverie from a crash and a loud snarl. He flailed, dropping the cup into the sink before sprinting down the stairs to find a Frank/Mikey stareoff. Frank was against the wall, hands clenched into tight fists. He looked more frightened than anything, eyes shining brightly in the semi-dark of the room, face white as a sheet. Gerard had given him new clothes, grey sweatpants and an old tee that hung off of him like a sheet.

Mikey, on the other hand.

Well. Mikey looked _dangerously_ angry, something so rare and abrupt on his angular face that it was terrifying. His eyes were like headlights in their luminosity, more yellow than Frank's gold. One thin hand was gripped on a metal curtain pole, brandished like a weapon. He was in a tight, threatening stance.

He looked like he was going to murder Frank, and that was certainly an option.

"No!" Gerard cried out the word, sliding across the floor in his socks and stopping as Mikey slammed the rod next to his head. Frank jerked behind him, letting out a panicked cry.

Gerard set wide eyes on Mikey and his brother hissed at him, the sound animalistic. There wasn't any Mikey in there, not really. Gerard struggled to stay calm, ignored the panic crawling up his throat.

"Mikey, _snap the fuck out of it!"_

Mikey snarled at him, revealing a flash of sharp fangs and yellow eyes. Gerard reached back, feeling for Frank's hand and holding it. "Frank, get out of here. Go upstairs to my room," he said urgently, letting go of his hand. Footsteps pattered away from them nervously, but luckily his brother had eyes for him now, something in his brain signifying Gerard was a bigger threat. Mikey hissed at him, swinging the pole, and Gerard caught it. A loud crunch sounded as his hand connected with the metal, and he winced but held on as Mikey tried to shake him off roughly.

"Mikes, come back to me," he begged.

Mikey bared his teeth, jagged and glinting in the light, and swung his feet to sweep him off of his own. Gerard hit the ground with a pained grunt, winded by the fall. Despite that, he yanked on the pole and Mikey tripped and fell on top of him. His knee slammed down on the concrete and he let out a growl, scrabbling to fit his hands around Gerard's throat. Thin but strong fingers looped around his neck, cutting off air almost immediately. He scrabbled at Mikey's hands, trying to dislodge him, but the brunette wouldn't let up.

Gerard slapped him.

It was a firm, sharp hit, with a fair bit of force behind it. Mikey's head whipped to the side and his eyes went brown immediately, shocked and wide as his glasses clattered to the ground. His hands loosened on Gerard's neck after a second, and he sucked in a desperate lungful of oxygen.

Gerard let out a relieved sigh and let his head drop down. He could still see Mikey from this angle, see the mark his hand had left fading away already. Mikey let out a long breath and rolled off of Gerard, sprawling onto his back.

"Fuck," he said.

Gerard couldn't have put it better himself.

Frank scuttled over to him, splaying a hand over his but giving Mikey a wide berth. Gerard looked up at the wide, concerned cat's eyes and offered a weak smile.

###

"Sit," Gerard ordered.

Both Frank and Mikey sat at the dining table, in unison. Frank didn't seem scared now that the threat was gone, eyeing Mikey every now and then but mostly watching Gerard. Mikey just stared at the wall across from them blankly, nothing showing in his expression. Gerard settled a cup of coffee in front of Mikey and sat down as well, staring at his brother.

"Mikey," he began.

"What."

Gerard gave him a wounded look, which was promptly ignored by his brother as Mikey took a sip of coffee. His hands were shaking, however. Gerard didn't comment on it.

"Mikes," he tried again. "We need to talk about this."

Mikey stood up, flat expression still maintained. Gerard refrained from sighing as his brother silently left the house, the front door giving a final slam that said volumes more than he had. Frank looked vaguely affronted by the noise, shifting in his seat a little. His expression was somewhat similar to a child that needed to piss really badly but wanted to stay for cake.

"Frank, what's wrong?"

"I..." Frank coughed, the words still evading him. The cough turned into a hacking fit, the noise rattling in his windpipe. Gerard waited.

"He's...not human, is he."

Gerard blinked at the statement. "...ah, no," he admitted. "But neither are you. Or me."

Frank seemed to consider this for a moment. "So what am I, then?"

"You're a...well, people usually call them vampires. That's the closest term I've got for you. We're not the kind you read in books, I think you'd remember sparkling."

"...can I go out in the sun?"

Gerard huffed. Of course he'd ask that. "It's just your eyes that are super sensitive to the light. If you wear sunglasses you'll be fine."

"And you guys are vampires too?"

"Uh," he scratched the back of his head. "Me and Mikey, we're kind of vampire, kind of human. We come from a line of vampire royalty or something, so we have the abilities, but we don't need to drink anyone if we don't want to. We've still got some mojo, just not a lot. Like, we both have the eye thing that happens sometimes, but Mikey only gets fangs when he's mad. He's a shitload stronger than me, though. He...he can't really control it very well.

We...don't really do much vampire stuff besides that. Our kind don't, we only really start getting more vampiric if we-"

He broke off, feeling Frank's eyes staring through him. He swallowed.

"We. Er. Don't worry about it."

Frank made a small noise of assent and then there were chilled hands moving across his own. "One of your fingers is broken," he commented, pressing on it. Gerard whipped it away with a loud yelp, casting a wounded look at the small punk.

Frank blinked. "Is it going to heal?"

"...probably not on its own," Gerard admitted.

"You can take my blood."

Gerard glanced at the gaping neckline of his shirt, to the delicately angled lines of his collarbone and the scorpion tattoo on his neck and forcibly pushed away the pulse of arousal. Frank just watched him steadily, a tiny spark in those gold eyes that reminded him of the human Frank. And Christ, he'd accept that offer in a instant.

"Can't," he said finally. "It's dead blood."

"Dead blood?"

 _Oh, shit. Frank wasn't supposed to know he'd died._ "That's, um, what we call vampire blood. It won't help."

Frank made a thoughtful noise in the back of his throat. "Your...brother. You could drink from him? He's still human, yeah?"

Gerard shook his head vehemently. "He won't allow it."

Frank's lips curved into the ghost of a smile. "Well, you're not eating a poor defenseless animal. What about the blood bank?"

Gerard shook his head. "'s not alive."

"Well. You're running out of options, Gee. What're you gonna do?"

"..."

Frank looked at him contemplatively. "I take it you don't want to prey on a human?"

"No!" He seemed amused by this as Gerard flailed around. "I can't do that!"

"Then you're going to have to make up with your brother." Frank stood, glancing at a cupboard before picking up a broom nearby. Gerard watched with some kind of warped amazement as he calmly began sweeping the floor.

###

Mikey wasn't answering his door. When Gerard knocked, there wasn't even any cursing or grumbling, just...nothing. When he attempted to turn the doorknob, it didn't turn, so he left it.

Goddamnit. It wasn't like Mikey was going to share his blood anyway.

His hand _really fucking hurt._

Frank just eyed him when he returned downstairs, sitting on the counter. Funny how he couldn't stand a speck of dust but he had no problem rubbing his ass all over the place they ate at (Sure, they had a dining table, but no one used that). His eyes didn't glow, not like theirs did, the irises were just a dark gold that reflected light a lot. There was an animal that did that, but he wasn't sure what. Raccoons? Deer? Something that got run over by trucks a lot.

"You do realise he left a while ago," Frank said to him as he passed.

Gerard stopped in his tracks and blinked at Frank.

"Can't you smell him?"

"...well, yeah," Gerard conceded. He had kind of picked up on it before all this had happened, that rain/coffee/copper smell, but now, it was almost like Mikey left a trail of scent. "But I try not to. It's kind of weird, y'know?"

"No?" Frank tilted his head and gave him a vague stare.

"Yes," Gerard replied in a tone that offered no argument.

Frank made a 'hmm' of disagreement and slid off the counter. "'m gonna go talk to him."

Oh shit.

"Frank, I don't think that's-"

"It's okay," Frank called as he went out the front door. "I remember some stuff."

The door swung shut as Gerard dropped to the floor and buried his face in his hands. "Gah," he grumbled to himself. How'd he wind up with the two people in the entire universe that never listened to _anything_ he had to say.

They were so _fucked._

###

Frank found Mikey at the park by their house.

He didn't remember the place, but he knew instinctively that the slide was cracked about three inches down and would break soon and that you didn't sit on the third swing from the right. It was like he'd visited in a past life, almost.

He didn't remember much, actually.

He knew he was Frank, and Mikey and Gerard were...important, somehow.

He knew that he'd been normal, once.

"Hey," he greeted Mikey, sitting down in the swing next to the one the older was on. He looked kind of awkward, and lonely, but Frank understood somewhere in his mind that this was a _Mikey_ thing rather than anything else.

Seemed like he knew a lot about Mikey Way.

"Jesus fuck!" Mikey flinched away, nearly falling off the swing and onto the gravel. His eyes flickered yellow for a split second, and Frank felt something in him _snarl_ at that. His brain was screaming at him, _threat, hurt, killkillkillsurvivedrink-_

"It's just me," he said instead, toneless.

Mikey blinked, and then his face schooled into a nonexpression. "What are you doing here."

It wasn't even a question. "You need to go back to Gerard."

"You should be in a cage."

"I get you hate my guts, but that doesn't help the situation."

"What would you know, you're a damn animal."

Frank snapped. "Excuse fucking _me,_ Way! Stop being such a shit! Your brother broke his goddamn _hand trying to make you normal again_ , stop acting like you're five! I don't know what the hell happened but you need to get that pole out your ass."

"...Gerard's hurt?"

" _Yes,_ you imbecile," Frank replied impatiently.

Mikey stood up and began walking back in the direction of the house, leaving Frank frustrated and...a little hurt, to be honest.

"It's just going to be like last time," he heard Mikey mutter. "It's not him."

Frank growled.

###

They had an agreement.

Elena, when she had first taken the two brothers out to her house and spoke to them quietly by the fireplace about their family, had told them stories about it. About how they had the power to save someone, but it came at a price. About how they would lose part of their humanity, their life, to give to someone so they could spend their lives together.

And how it would only work for a certain person.

Elena didn't use the word soulmate, but that was what she implied when she said that they'd know when they should change someone. She spoke about how, if it was right, both their partner and them would live longer, would be healthier, how it was a special thing.

Mikey had listened to the moral of it all, while Gerard listened to the story.

He always was the romantic.

And before Frank, there had been Bert McCracken.

Mikey hated McCracken with a passion, hated his dumb laugh and that picture Gerard had of him in the bathtub. He hated the attitude, the voice, the hair. He smelled like grease and takeout, and Mikey also hated that. Mikey was also certain he didn't actually like Gee, that he just wanted his body.

But Gerard had loved him.

So Mikey didn't say anything when Gerard mentioned turning him. He stayed away, went to see Pete for a few days, tried to forget about it all.

But it all went to hell.

And _oh,_ how Mikey wanted to say _I told you so, I knew this would happen._

They kept Bert- the _animal_ masquerading as Bert- for a good four months with no sign of humanity from him. Every time he went down to the basement, there were snarls and biting and attempts to grab him. It was unsettling. Mikey begged Gerard to just let him go, but Gerard wouldn't allow any of it. He kept trying, spending hours at a time playing music to it, drawing for it, talking to it about the plot of Star Wars. Mikey didn't know what to do.

That is, until it escaped and nearly killed Mikey in the process.

He could still remember the sharp, vicious tearing at his throat, the _pain_. It had pinned him to the floor, and he'd been too young, too frightened to fight back. All he could do was lie there limply as the thing clawed his chest, whimpering and shaking. The thing bent its head to feed on him, mouth a gruesome mess and it was _nothing_ romantic, he was going to die and-

-and Gerard snapped its neck in one sharp turn, almost making the head do a 360. Mikey could only watch, terrified and frozen, as Gerard's fangs tore open its throat, nearly ripping the head off. Blood gushed down on top of him, soaking his shirt and flecking his face, and he stared. Gerard let out a wet cough and threw the body aside, yellow eyes focusing on Mikey. For a minute, he didn't look like Gerard, more like something alien and frightening, and he couldn't help it.

Mikey started crying. And shit, he was trying to stop so _bad,_ but the sobs were almost ripped out of his throat, frightened crying with tears streaking down his cheeks. He rubbed at his cheeks roughly, only managing to smear more blood and snot on his face.

He stopped suddenly when arms wrapped around him and let out a hiccup. Gerard shooshed him, pressing his blood-damp lips against his forehead.

"It's okay, Mikes, I'm so sorry," he said softly.

Mikey sniffed.

"It won't happen again," he mumbled. "Just you and me, Mikes, promise."

"Promise?"

"Yeah, I promise. Want me to pinky swear? I will."

"Fucking idiot," Mikey answered.

"That's me. Wanna get that shit cleaned off?"


	4. Chapter 4

Frank stayed out in the park for a while, trying to figure himself out.

"Frank Iero," he said distantly.

He was kind of hungry again.

He considered going and finding a random person to feed on, but something about that made him feel cheap and dirty, and unsettled. Like he was gross. So he stayed where he was, swinging back and forth gently on the swing. Amusingly enough, his feet didn't hit the ground and he inwardly cursed the fact that kids were getting taller and lankier. Couldn't they just stay small so the swings were shorter and  he could actually touch the sand with his toes?

He blinked down at his bare feet and realised he didn't feel anything through them. There was an echo of memory in his mind, some ghost feeling of grit between his toes and a place with water, lots of it, but he couldn't remember.

Must be a vampire thing, huh.

It was pouring down buckets, basically, but it didn't really bother him as much as it might have if he could feel his body temperature. He guessed it was probably a vampire thing too, seen as he got the feeling he was a person who got colds a lot. He poked at his lip, feeling the hole where a ring had gone at some point in time. He stared at the ink on his arms, touched the ones he knew were on his neck, peered down his shirt. He knew the art was important to him, probably, and then he saw them.

The tattoos over his heart, with a raw sheen to them that suggested they were new. The curl of dark ink was settled comfortably against the skin of his chest, neat and clear.

_Michael James Way_ , and under it, _Gerard Arthur Way_ , and he frowned.

"Fuck," he muttered. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

The rain kept pouring down.

Frank looked in Mikey's direction and then looked the other way. Maybe he could just...leave? Mikey didn't seem to like him, and that left something hollow in his chest. It wasn't right.

He stood up and walked in the other direction.

###

"Gerard. Get up."

Gerard woke up to something warm sliding down his chin and shied away, curling into a ball and trying to sink into the warm carpet. His mind was muzzy, unfocused, and he just wanted to sleep. If he woke up, there would be pain, and confusion and too much. He rolled over onto his back and nearly choked on something thick in his throat.

His hand still hurt, too.

"Get up. You're staining the carpet," came a flat voice from above him, and he squinted open one eye, still rubbing his cheek on the carpet and coughing to try and get rid of the wetness. The voice speaking to him didn't register for a moment until his brain came back online a second later, and he opened his eyes wearily.

Mikey was kneeling above him, pale as ever, with his fringe matted to his face from rain and glasses misty. Gerard relaxed for a moment, until he licked his bottom lip absently and tasted blood.

Mikey's blood.

"Wha-" was all he got out before Mikey was settling his birdlike wrist against his lips again and the flow of blood hit his tongue. The burst of copper in his mouth was divine, so much so that he wrapped his fingers around Mikey's hand tightly and sucked. He felt the startled noise his brother made rather than hear it, but ignored it profusely. God, it was just so fucking _good_ he could feel it all the way to his goddamn toes. He let out a desperate, aroused moan against the skin, eyes fluttering shut, and then.

"No."

Gerard tried to follow Mikey's wrist with his mouth, but he was stopped by a steady hand against his forehead and a tawny stare.

"Gerard. I'm not- we're not doing this, anymore. After this, you need to find a donor."

_What_?

"Mikey, I-"

"No, I don't care. I'm going to stay at Ray's for a while."

"But I thought that we were okay, I thought we-"

Gerard's confusion seemed to break Mikey visibly.

"It was supposed to be you and Frank and _me_ , and you killed him and he doesn't know who I am!"

Gerard tried to speak but nothing came out. Mikey kept going.

"You _promised me_ you wouldn't do this again! I nearly _died_ last time you pulled a stunt like this, and- and you- why did it have to be _him? Why did you have to have Frank of all people, you selfish prick?!_ "

And, oh. It made sense now.

"You're in love with him too," Gerard whispered, taking in Mikey's guarded stance, the spots of colour in his cheeks, the redness around his eyes. Mikey didn't reply, standing up silently and making his way up the staircase, leaving Gerard sitting on the floor. A stray droplet of blood landed on the first step, and Gerard stared at it, contemplating licking it off.

"Oh," Gerard said. "Oh, fuck."

###

Mikey tossed a shirt and his BlackBerry charger into a bag and zipped it up. Then he paused, grabbed the latest issue of Doom Patrol, rolled it up and slid it in. Then he swung a leg out the window and dropped down to the floor. He felt Gerard's presence more than saw it as he passed by the side of the house, profusely not looking as he strode down the street. He hadn't texted Ray; but he knew the older would just let him in anyway. Ray didn't really ask questions, probably because he knew he wouldn't get any answers.

"Hey, Mikey, come in."

Like he knew he would, Ray just stood aside, smiling at him from that cloud of curls. Mikey brushed past him into the apartment, dropping his stuff in the doorway and making his way into the kitchen. He heard the door shut gently and then the shuffling noises he assumed were Ray putting stuff away. He just reached under the sink for the tequila and leaned against the counter, taking a swig and grimacing at the taste.

Ray poked his head around the doorway a few minutes later. He didn't seem very surprised that Mikey was raiding his stash, motioning for him to pass the bottle over. They passed it back and forth for a while, not saying anything. Mikey swung his legs back and forth absently, watching an hour tick by. Ray sat down on the floor by his feet, hair brushing his bare ankle every now and then.

"Want to talk about it?"

He snorted. "No."

"Alright. Just putting the offer out there."

They sat in silence for a few more minutes, in which Mikey realised he'd downed half the bottle and everything in his line of vision was sort of sliding sideways. He pushed off the counter and slumped down next to Ray, nearly dropping the tequila in the process. He cradled it closer and sighed.

"Anything I can do to help?"

"Probably not."

Ray let out a small sigh of his own and pulled him closer, wrapping an arm around him. It was warm, and kind of nice to have that contact. Mikey closed his eyes and pretended he was Gerard, or Frank.

_Fucking_ Frank. Just his luck they'd be soulmates. Now what was he supposed to do?

"Fuck," he said eloquently. He needed to forget this shit, all of it. Find someone else. Someone who wasn't his brother's soulmate.

Wait.

Why was he breaking his heart over his brother and Frank when he could be doing other shit? He wasn't a teenage girl. Especially when he had a warm, willing body next to him.

"Ac'ually," he said.

Ray hummed.

###

Gerard didn't realise Frank was gone until a few hours later.

He'd been sitting on the floor still, just sort of drifting about in the depths of his mind as his hand repaired itself. Some part of him didn't want it fixed, wanted the physical pain so he'd be distracted from the mental. But it wasn't like he could spit the blood back out again anyway, so he sat in that spot. And waited. He didn't know what he was waiting for, if it was just in his head, but he sat there nonetheless.

He couldn't feel his ass anymore.

It was then that his eyes landed on the abandoned duster by the bookshelf.

" _Fuck,"_ he said fervently. Surely Mikey hadn't- he wouldn't have-?

He stood up quickly, knees nearly buckling under him in the process. Goddamnit, he wasn't losing Frank again. There was no way Mikey would have murdered _Frank,_ no way in hell. Frank had probably just gotten lost or something. Which was _even worse_ because the thought of the smaller man out in the pouring rain, confused and scared and probably _hungry_ , broke Gerard's heart a little.

"Frank," he yelled out, running down the hallway. "Frank!"

Gerard knew in his heart that he hadn't come back home, and logically he knew it too. Frank had a unique scent, one of smoke and sunlight (more recently there'd been a tang of blood to it, but Gerard ignored that.) If he'd come back Gerard would be able to smell him, which meant he was out there somewhere. Out on the streets, probably lost.

And Gerard couldn't fucking drive.

" _Fuck,"_ he said with feeling, and grabbed his boots and ran for Ray's apartment complex.

When he got there, the door was hanging off its hinges, and that was his first clue something was wrong. The second thing was the fresh droplets of blood splattered on the off-white carpet just in the doorway. Gerard thought about licking it and then remembered Cortez pissing on it once and grimaced.

His first thought was that someone had broken in, and shit, what if they had a _gun_ \- and then he remembered guns didn't hurt him. Well. At least there was that. He stepped into the room and relaxed fractionally, tipping his chin up and sniffing the air. And _shit,_ he could smell beer/metal (Ray) and coffee/rain (Mikey) _and smoke and sunshine which meant Frank was here, oh fuck._

What if he'd hurt someone?

"Ray," he called out, turning down the short hallway. He peered into the kitchen and saw a tipped-over bottle of tequila, and his stomach dropped to his feet.

Shit. Ray hoarded his alcohol.

Gerard didn't even look in the bathroom, just slammed open the master bedroom door expecting to see a massacre.

"What," he said instead.

Ray was out cold on the bed, his pants half unbuttoned, and a quick sniff confirmed he was fine, just unconscious. A snore escaped him and Gerard deflated a little. Thank fuck.

"What," he repeated.

Mikey snarled at him from where he was handcuffed to the dresser, blood caked on his chin, shirt missing, yellow eyes almost luminescent in the afternoon light. He tried to lunge at Gerard but the cuffs kept him right where he was, the dresser too heavy for his slender frame.

" _What,"_ he said again, faintly, and a figure walked out of the bathroom.

Gerard's panicked eyes landed on his face, on the shine of the ring in his lip and the pink belt visible looped into the jeans he was wearing, on the clear dark eyes that were watching him fondly. He tried to speak again, but nothing came out.

"Hey there," Frank Iero, the _proper_ Frank Iero, greeted gently.


	5. Chapter 5

"The more I looked at those tattoos, the more my head started hurting like a motherfucker. There was something _important_ in those letters, something I couldn't decipher properly with my memory missing, y'know?"

Gerard nodded weakly.

Frank gave him a sympathetic look and passed the steaming cup of coffee over to him. Gerard clutched it like a lifeline, flinching at the loud snore from behind him. They'd decided to move Ray rather than Mikey, Frank lifting him easily like he wasn't twice his size and dropping him on the couch. Gerard had just stared until the smaller man returned and guided him to a chair, starting up the coffee machine kept in the apartment specifically for visits from the Way brothers.

"Anyway," Frank continued on, "I remembered some of the streets and stuff in the back of my mind and somehow I ended up at my place. It was weird as fuck, seeing all my stuff but not really being able to relate to it. I just felt like I was gonna hurl all over the place, and I saw this picture of us and Mikey I keep on my computer. Remember the one, when we all went to Comic-Con in July?"

He didn't give Gerard time to answer.

"Man, you guys were ecstatic when I showed you those tickets to see Grant Morrison. It was the soppiest shit, like something from a bad movie, and the first thing I remembered was that you two gross assholes hadn't showered for two weeks, but I saw the..." He paused to wave one tattooed hand in the air nonsensically. "The _love,_ you know, the way you guys looked so fucking happy and the look on your faces, that just snapped me back."

Gerard opened his mouth but Frank continued obliviously.

"It _hur_ t, like you have no idea, _fuck,_ it actually felt like my brain was being microwaved, but when it started going away I smelt Mikey nearby, and it was strange as hell, he smells like rain and coffee, have you smelt him-"

###

Frank was still reeling from the onslaught of his _entire life in about thirty seconds_ when he smelt him.

_Mikey._

He grabbed his lip ring off the counter (why was it there, that was a dumb place, it's gonna get infected) and a pair of jeans from the floor by the entrance before walking out. He ignored the grandma from across the street and her astonished glare as he pulled up his pants, putting his dick away. Somehow he didn't think she appreciated it.

His newfound speed made it easier to cross the busy streets to Ray's apartment complex, and _hell,_ he missed Ray too, but mostly he just wanted to grab Mikey by the face and-

And then he heard Ray cry out.

He didn't care for finesse in either life or death or vampirism, so he kicked the locked door, hard. It snapped open with a loud bang and he cringed. Well, he could pay him back, he was a fucking superhero now. He could still smell Mikey and Ray thick in his nose, and he could hear Ray's heartbeat, so at least there was that. He skidded down the hall, nearly tripping ober a shitt, and found Mikey straddling Ray on top of the bed.

_Woah._ Mikey and _Ray?_ Surely he hadn't upset Mikey that much. He stepped back an inch, and then heard the younger Way brother muttering to himself.

"'t'll be fine, me 'n Ray, not Fr'nkie, not Gerard, jus' us, 'n we'll get a new band, uh huh..."

"Mikey?"

Mikey stiffened and all Frank saw was the gleam of yellow from across the room. He walked into the room, noting that Ray wasn't even conscious as he did. Mikey maintained a crouch over the guitarist, watching Frank.

"Mikes," he said, "what are you doing?"

Mikey gave him a vaguely trashed and prideful look. "Can't have you, 'r Gee, so I'm have Ray."

"Uh. Mikes, he's unconscious."

"I know. Jus', jus' gotta kill him, then he can be 'mmortal too."

Wait. "Mikes. Mikey. You can't kill Ray."

There was silence from the Way brother in reply. Frank took another step closer, already trying to calculate how he could get Mikey away from Ray. He had just gotten near his feet when Mikey lunged for him, and they both went crashing down to the floor, Frank scrabbling to keep those snapping teeth away from him. Mikey let out a feral snarl by his ear and he twisted away, kicking at the brunet's knee and dislodging him enough to wriggle out from under him.

" _Stop_ it," he said, already feeling something in him reaching to claw the other's throat out.

He got up to his feet before Mikey was on him again, slamming him against the wall. He hissed in the other's face before he could help it, clenching his hands around Mikey's wrists tightly. Mikey snapped his teeth a few inches from his nose and Frank shoved him back.

" _Mikey!"_

His snapping did no good, only distracting him for the split second Mikey needed to grab him by the neck and throw him down the hallway. He slammed against the wall next to the door, feeling something crack in his body painfully. Frank's body would have fallen to the ground but Mikey was there in a flash, and arms caught him in an almost gentle gesture. Frank relaxed fractionally, that is, until teeth sank into his shoulder. He let out a startled, pained noise at the bite, whole body flexing uncomfortably. Mikey was _drinking his blood._

"...Mikey," he croaked, barely above a whisper.

He hadn't realised until now what it was like to be on the receiving end of this, the way that burn spread from the bite down his whole body. And, and it went to _his dick, oh God._ It wasn't just him, either- he could feel Mikey's boner against his leg.

Mikey growled against his shoulder and Frank felt his knees buckle. "Bed, bedroom," he whispered against Mikey's mess of hair.

Mikey drew back, eyes still yellow but fading. "...yeah," he breathed, the word drawn out.

Frank led him back to the room, ignoring Ray's prone body profusely as he smiled at Mikey. "Left drawer on the dresser," he said. Mikey blinked at him and went to go look in it.

###

"-I knew I couldn't beat him physically, because he knew how to fight and I was kind of low on juice," Frank said, rubbing his face, "so I had to trick him. I knew Ray keeps his kinky shit under the bed, so while Mikey was getting the lube I grabbed them and handcuffed him to the thing. He wasn't too happy about it, but I wasn't going to let him kill Ray."

"You did well, Frankie. I'm glad you're back," Gerard answered softly. Now that he'd mentioned it, he could see the jagged mark just over Frank's collar.

Frank gave him the ghost of a smile. "Thanks. It's good to...y'know."

They smiled at each other for a moment, until a loud sob came from the bedroom. Gerard paled. Frank rose from his seat and petted his head gently, cold lips touching his forehead.

"I'll talk to him," Frank murmured.

"Are you sure? I, I could-"

"Nah. You look after Ray."

"You're taking your murder really well."

"Yeah, well," Frank paused to smile at Gerard, "I've got you two idiots. That's all I ever wanted."

Frank made his way to the bedroom, closing the door behind him gently. His eyes didn't need to adjust to the dark anymore, so his gaze fixed on Mikey's form immediately, huddled in a ball. Even from here, he could tell there was no vampire left in him right now.

Frank couldn't say anything. What could he say?

"Go away," Mikey said tonelessly.

"No. Fucker, I want answers," he retorted, crossing his arms.

"I don't have any."

"Well, who does?"

It seemed to be Mikey's turn to be silent, and Frank felt his heart break a little. He made his way across the room, dropping to his knees and staring at the younger Way brother's crumpled form helplessly. He looked so small, battered and bloody, even if the blood wasn't his.

"Why did you think we didn't want you?"

"Wh-"

"Mikey, both Gee and I love you to pieces." Frank tugged his shirt to the side and revealed the curling letters of the tattoo.

Shocked brown eyes met his, only a little gold in the dim lighting. Frank yanked him into the embrace forecefully, clutching at the collar of his shirt and breathing in the smell, the _life_. _Thank fucking goodness_ , he thought quietly. Then Mikey let out a loud, hacking cough and the smell of his blood permeated the air.

"Shit," Frank muttered.

"Hurts," Mikey said, cringing.

Frank followed the sense of foreboding in his heart and stuck a finger in Mikey's mouth, noting the gums bleeding. How he'd known to look there, he couldn't say. Mikey let out something alarmingly close to a whimper as he poked, and he batted away the hands trying to make him stop.

"Mikey, you're bleeding," Frank said.

"No fucking shit," came the muffled reply. "'s because I bit you so hard."

Frank sighed. "Should I get Gerard?"

"...um," Mikey started uncertainly, and wow, there was so much under that poker face, a lot. "Can you just...I mean, if you're not..."

"...what?"

"Your spit has healing powers," Mikey muttered.

"Oh," Frank breathed. "Yeah, sure, Mikes, c'mere, let me just..."

He tried to ignore the part of his mind telling him to rip out that slender neck and fitted their lips together instead. Mikey let out a startled little breath into his open mouth and Frank let his eyes slip shut, just exploring his mouth gently, tasting the copper of Mikey's blood. Mikey, for his part, just let it happen, parting his lips and letting Frank do his thing.

When Frank sat back he could tell the bleeding had stopped.

Mikey wouldn't meet his eyes.

"Come on," he said gently. "Let's take care of all this."

They smiled faintly at each other when Gerard knocked on the door. He peeked in and saw them huddled together and beamed back at them.

"Aw, cuddle pile," he said, voice breaking a little as he made his way over to them. Frank looped an arm around Mikey's waist and Gerard linked all their fingers together.

"Us against the world, yeah?"

Mikey looked at them. "Are you sure?"

Frank and Gerard glanced at each other and grinned. "You can have more than one soulmate," Gerard commented. Frank nodded agreeably.

"Okay," Mikey said. "Us against the world."


End file.
